


Nightmares

by very_vary



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amelie and Lena knew each other pre-brainwash, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I'm gay and so is lena, Infidelity, Lena's a little fucked up by this point, May or may not continue based on feedback?, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes, basically this all starts because of dreams lena has about widow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_vary/pseuds/very_vary
Summary: Lena Oxton was perfectly happy in her relationship with Emily. She hadn't put a ring on the idea yet, but she was content and happy with having a normal, loving home to come back to after her 'missions.' However, once Lena starts receiving some 'interesting' nightmares about her worst enemy and her own recklessness starts to rub the relationship raw, she has no choice but to face the music. Maybe she wasn't meant for a domestic life? Then again, all of her feelings towards Widowmaker felt wrong, although somewhat familiar, causing curiosity surrounding her to eat at the back of her mind. Would it be worth the risk to break off the tension and pursue her ideals and the skeletons in Overwatch's closet, or would leaving behind her flat and her future lead to nothing but trouble?





	1. Problematic

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Honestly, writer's block is a bitch, but occasionally, I take the time to sit down and write stuff. However, I do thrive off of outside validation, so if anybody's interested, feel free to speak up in the comments and I'll actually be active about posting new chapters! No French in the story yet, so there won't be any translation notes at the bottom.

Lena’s fingers glided over smooth skin, her lips locked in a passionate kiss. The woman sitting with her had her hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head, her ice cold touch fighting against the heat of the moment. Everything seemed a blur of breath and sound in the dark room, just an amalgamation of feelings that felt so terribly wrong, but so good at the same time. She pulled back from the kiss to catch her breath and opened her eyes, her own meeting the other’s. But instead of being a moment of intimacy, terror shot through her, as hardened golden eyes focused on her face, and a small knife sunk into her chest. 

Lena, callsign Tracer, woke up with a jolt and a cold sweat, and cursed herself again for having damn sex dreams about Widowmaker, who anyone could argue was her nemesis. What was she, fifteen? This had been common lately, much to her annoyance. She couldn't deny some attraction to the sniper (she may be insane, but she was also insanely hot, and Lena was terribly gay), but the problem was, she was a cold-blooded killer, and they hated each other. 

She brushed her hair out of her face and sighed, trying to steady her breathing. Another woman stirred beside her and sat up, moving to rub Lena’s back. “Nightmares again?”

Ah, right. The other problem was the fact she had a wonderful girlfriend, Emily. She couldn't exactly tell the woman she loved that she was having R-rated dreams about the woman she hated. Especially when Emily had been the one she had come home to after all of their fights, whether they were successes or failures. So, she lied, yawning and leaning into the other. “Just the usual, love. Sorry for disturbing ya. I'll be back to sleep in a minute.” Yes, the usual. That much hadn't been a lie. Her most recent haunting nightmares were fantasies about a heartless sniper. She tried to erase the vivid images from her mind and laid back down after Emily did, sighing quietly. Her girlfriend cuddled closer and ran a few fingers through her short hair, trying to soothe her. Lena felt absolutely horrible that she was making Emily worry, but she accepted the reassurance that it was all just a strange nightmare, and that this was what was real. They relaxed in the silence and the dark for quite a while until Emily fell asleep, and Lena was left to stare at the wall and watch the charge port for her chronal accelerator glow softly on the wall. Despite her surroundings, though, what she felt in those dreams... Well, she couldn't get it out of her head. It didn't just resurface feelings of want, it brought up feelings of safety and familiarity, which shouldn't be things she associated with one of her worst enemies. Something was off, but she couldn't put her finger on it, and it was driving her crazy.

Like every night she had that dream, she couldn't sleep. Every action seemed symbolic, every breath was overanalyzed in her sleep-deprived, caffeine-withdrawal, four-in-the-morning mind. It was like an itch she couldn't scratch, like she was missing something about the whole situation. She should be expecting the attack, but the stab felt like a betrayal, like it hurt more in her heart figuratively than literally. She didn't even know why. All of her senses had seemed heightened, and Widowmaker smelled like elderflower and vanilla. The pairing was, again, familiar, but she couldn't place it, and she wouldn't dare ask Emily about it to see if she would know. But it wasn't Emily's scent, and that was all that mattered. This was wrong. She was loyal to a fault, and the fact that this was even in her head, in her thoughts, was ridiculous. Like the assassin had planted it in there as part of a plan to throw her off her game in battle. She didn't want to leave Emily for a fling that would put her in a situation that would end in her own death.

But she did want to know why it felt like home in her arms, and not in Emily's.


	2. It's The Thought That Counts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I wasn't expecting so much positive feedback right off the bat! Thank you all for the support! Talk about a motivation boost :) Take a high noon joke and a new chapter as thanks.

The next morning was... rough, to say the least, and Lena was a bit antsy.

The nightmares (Were they really that nightmarish? They were pretty enjoyable after all, at least until the end, despite the guilt.) had dug out some dark circles under her eyes, but that was nothing that a good cup o' joe couldn't fix! She grinned at Emily as her coffee brewed, an expert at covering up any internal turmoil. For someone that hadn't been in bed with her last night, she would look perfectly normal. But Emily wasn't stupid. She knew something was up, even if Lena was perched happily on the edge of the counter in their little kitchen area. 

"What's wrong, Lena? Your dreams have really been bothering you lately, I can tell. You can always talk to me, you know that." Well, not necessarily, if the subject was confidential, Lena mused to herself, deciding maybe it wasn't the best time to raise a valid point like that. Instead, she just shrugged. "Like I said, it's the usual. I'll see if Winston can find me a plane. A few trick flips and voila! Lena Oxton, good as new. And if that doesn't work, I'm sure there's something I can do to fight the good fight, get some real energy in! You don't need to worry, love." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "It's nothing you haven't heard before." Lena kept up her grin, but her smile faded just a little when Emily didn't seem to be accepting of the proposition. “What did I say?”

Emily sighed, brushing some of her thick, fiery hair out of her face. “Lena… You can't keep this up forever. You can't live in denial that things haven't changed. Why won't you settle down? We can move on from all of this together. It was one thing to be ‘fighting the good fight’ when it came with support and a salary, but now you're just being reckless. You're going to do something you'll regret one day, and you'll be stranded in the rubble of an illegal organization with nowhere to go. I can't carry the both of us indefinitely.” Lena’s heart sank. She had been dodging this conversation for a while, and this really wasn't the best time, when she was questioning a long-standing relationship on the grounds of dreams. It sounded ridiculous even to her, and she was a bit of an idealist. “Emily, you know it's not that simple to me…” This was her passion, her purpose in life. She couldn't give that up for some regular 9 to 5 job at a cubicle farm. She didn't ever go to uni, after all. She went into the military straight out of high school, and so it seemed like her options were few and far between. Especially with the essential searchlight on her chest. Sure, she'd turn in all of her paperwork on time, guaranteed, but she wasn't sure if her boss would appreciate warping time as a work ethic. Plus… leaving this life would be devastating. She was convinced she was at least meant to be an adventurer. But she supposed her girlfriend wasn't. 

There were a few moments of awkward silence before Emily put her coffee cup down on the island. “I know. I'm sorry. But… think it over, all right? I want to live a normal life with you.” But was that possible? She gazed over at Lena. “Whatever you do today, just… please be careful. I don't want you digging your own grave.” And with that, she disappeared back into the bedroom without a word more. 

Okay. So… Trick flips it is. Or, because planes tend to be hard to come by to your average vigilante, maybe she could find something to do elsewhere. Get her mind off of what had just happened… by doing something she had just been scolded about. Great. That wasn’t the best idea ever, was it? She was full of terrible tidbits today. Emily obviously wanted her out of the apartment for a bit, though, so, when she came out of the bedroom, they passed like ships in the night, leaving Lena to get dressed and get ready to go out on her own.

After pulling on something presentable, the fifteen million straps needed to secure her chronal accelerator, a jacket to cover it up, and a beanie, she meandered out the door, ignoring the spring warmth outside their complex making her feel like she was cooking in her coverup. Still, she wanted to test out being normal for a while. Maybe Emily would approve of that. So she walked to the coffee shop a few blocks down and relaxed at the window, letting even more caffeine be her support system for the day. For her… normal day. 

Well, it's the thought that counts, right? Because the second she saw a familiar shadow streak across the gap between two buildings, she was out of that cafe, muffin half eaten and latte half gone, before she could ask herself what she was doing with her life. She was out in broad daylight? This was insane… And incredibly dangerous for the both of them. Was her target seriously only in position near a time Jesse would be proud of? She shook herself of the annoying thoughts and focused on the here and now: Widowmaker had to be here somewhere. She just saw her. 

She had some questions to ask.


	3. Divine Intervention (...ish)

Lena sprinted down the street, zipping past annoyed and confused passerby as she told herself not to use the accelerator yet. Not yet. Not yet. It really wasn't the best idea to use it in front of a crowd of civilians on their lunch break, and she would do best with little to no media coverage, so it's best if she kept this to the rooftops and alleyways, where they wouldn't be disturbed. And... well, where she could make sure she wouldn't have the guilt of another innocent's death on her conscience. She steeled herself for the fight ahead, and, just barely seeing the tip of a sniper rifle off the top of the building above her, she sprinted for its fire escape, shedding the jacket and the beanie for freedom of movement as she blinked up, up, up. She barely let her feet touch the ground as best she could, trying to keep quiet. Lena needed the advantage. If she could just time this right...

She peeked over the edge of the rooftop, ready to aim and attack, when she realized two very important things.

One: She didn't have her guns.

Two: Widowmaker was not on the damned roof.

Though she chided herself for literally attempting to charge into battle with nothing but the clothes on her back, she told herself that she could beat herself up anytime she wanted. For now, she had a sniper to catch. The gun was gone, too, of course; She must have needed a different perch to get a clear shot... Or Lena had been spotted, but she tried to be optimistic. She heard the metallic whizzing sound of a grappling hook again, and she whipped around to follow the sound, running across the roof and spotting Widowmaker making her way through the city through back alleys.

She could practically already hear Emily's inevitable lecture about this ringing in her ears, but curiosity killed the cat, and she wanted to know what the hell she thought she was up to. This was her city, and she knew it like the back of her hand. She was just... a little less proficient at scaling walls than her nemesis was, so sometimes, that tended to slow her down. But not today. Nothing but watching your target run through the grid of a city like a lab mouse in a cage. Twisted metaphors aside, though, they were really starting to reach the edge of the city, threatening to let their path dissolve into the suburbs, so Lena raced down a different fire escape to follow her on the ground, and managed not to lose her in the increasingly long blocks and back roads. She got too close, and the gravel crunched under her feet, making Lena immediately hold her breath and dart behind a dumpster, the last picture of the sniper in her mind being one of her stiffening and stopping. There were a few moments of agonizing silence where Lena silently invoked the name of any deity she could think of, praying she wouldn't get caught and killed like this. But It didn't last long, and she listened as light footsteps continued walking in the opposite direction.

One of these days, she really had to go back to church. She had been casting in way too many favors with a higher power recently.

Unfortunately for her little impromptu stealth mission, though, it finally set in how absolutely suicidal this whole plan had been, and, when the coast was clear, she sped back in the direction of home, also shooting an IOU up above on the grounds that Emily wouldn't chew her out for disappearing and possibly being caught in her vigilante activities by the press. She made it home in decent time, though, before the sun fully set, and though Emily was concerned and slightly suspicious, she didn't actually have grounds for an argument, so the two settled peacefully. 

But she had her 'nightmare' again, and not knowing what Widowmaker was up to was driving her up the wall. So, on a hunch, the next day, she went to the same place, just to see if she was following a routine. It would be incredibly valuable information if she was, and who knows what she would lead her to! Possibly a Talon sleeper cell? If she could start exposing the whole organization, Overwatch could be liberated! She was grinning at the thought of UN funds flowing in again. It didn't take long for it to fade, though. Those were all just fantasies, and she probably wouldn't show up anyway. It would be stupid, especially under the knowledge that she might have been followed-- Holy mother of God. Lena Oxton was feeling religious, because the sniper had arrived. She followed her again, taking the same path, and followed her all the way out to a half-abandoned warehouse in a really sketchy part of the outer city. Unarmed, she couldn't risk trying to infiltrate whatever that place was, so she continued her recon, coming back every day for a week and a half, trying to figure out if she was transporting anything, if she heard voices from inside, or something! There had to be some reason behind it.

Twelve days after she first followed Widowmaker, Lena found herself using the same technique as usual, straining her ears to make sure the coast was clear enough to dart through the alley behind her. Instead of catching a glimpse of the sniper's backside as usual (which, she'd admit, was a nice view), though, she found herself face to face with the terrorist, the cold barrel tip of her gun immediately pressed against her forehead. She froze, definitely looking like a deer in headlights, which made the woman across from her chuckle cruelly. "Pathetic." Widowmaker practically spat, shifting closer and looking the Overwatch agent up and down. "You didn't even come armed. You'd think a 'seasoned fighter' like you would know better, but apparently not." She tutted mockingly, but her expression turned to one of stone almost immediately afterwards. The sniper kicked Lena in the chest, her hard boot sending the smaller woman tumbling backwards into the dust and gravel with a yelp. "Why have you been following me?"

Lena went with the instinctual response and shot her a trademark grin. "What, would you not believe me if I said I liked you?" Widowmaker rolled her eyes and lowered her weapon slightly, just enough to change the aim from her head to the glowing contraption on her chest. The grin wavered, but she kept it up as the sniper continued. "I'll repeat myself. Why have you been following me?"

She let out a mocking sigh and tried to take this lightly, just shrugging and adjusting how she was sitting. "I've got nothing else to do. Figured I'd drop by, bring a casserole to your warehouse or something. I'm just trying to be a good neighbor." That actually managed to get a laugh out of Widowmaker, though it wasn't joyful. It sent shivers up Lena's spine. "There's nothing in that damned warehouse. I knew you were following me the first time you did it. Did you really think I would legitimately lead you to something important? I just wanted to see how long you'd try to stalk me before I became bored of sending you on a wild goose chase every day. And, well, you are very entertaining. It's almost a shame the show will end here."

She supposed that was overdramatic Frenchie talk for 'I'm about to spatter your brains on the side of this office building.' Think fast. "Why haven't you killed me before?" She blurted out, just trying to get words out in order to stall her impending death. "You've had plenty of chances to kill me already. Why didn't you take advantage of that before? What's holding you back?"

The question ushered in a miracle: a shadow of hesitation crossed the sniper's face, and Lena kicked her legs out from under her and started running for her life. She heard the sniper curse in French behind her, but she didn't focus on it, starting to blink randomly as best she could to avoid the bullets beginning to whizz by her. One skimmed her right arm, and she cried out, stumbling a bit, but didn't fall, letting the shredded remains of a caffeine rush and adrenaline carry her out of there as fast as she could. She couldn't afford a recall, anyway, so she just told herself to grit her teeth and keep going if she valued her life, an order which she gladly obeyed. She managed to take a few unpredictable turns and disappeared into a busy crowd of commuters coming home, masquerading as a normal passerby until she was sure she had made it to safety. 

Talk about a dance with death. She made it home late, clutching her forearm and trying to stop some of the bleeding with her fingers. God, she hated bullet wounds (as most probably did). She managed to keep it contained until she got back to the flat, though, where she had to confront a both horrified and terrified Emily, god bless her. At least she was used to this, helping patch her up and wrap up her arm with a level of efficiency that would make Angela applaud her improvement. It was a shame she preferred civilian life; Angela really did like her, and would have been willing to take her under her wing to teach her about combat medicine. Once she was in stable condition, Lena was on the receiving end of a strange speech that resembled the hate child of a high school principal’s lecture and a screaming rant about her ‘recklessness.’ Hey, whatever, she tried to reassure herself. She found a weakness. An actual spot of hesitation, for some reason, which was spectacular. It wasn't much, and though she had been humiliated and had her life flash before her eyes as a part of the process to receive this tidbit of information, it was still a small possibility that this was a clue. A clue to her mysterious, explicit murder fantasies. 

Trying to look repentant after Emily finished her spiel, Lena let her mind wander once left alone and just speculated. Not only about Widowmaker, but about the outcome of her current relationship, and her future. She'd find closure soon, she hoped. But for now, she needed to find the nearest chapel and convert, because she was pretty sure her leaving that encounter with a minor wound was a feat of divine intervention in itself.


	4. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya loves! Happy Overwatch anniversary! Sorry, I've been having trouble with inspiration, and this still is pretty shit, but hopefully it satisfies you all. To make up for the time break, this chapter's extra long, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Lena was much younger, dressed in bright blue and a chronal accelerator whose hum she still hadn't gotten used to yet. Her first mission-- a strike team drop at her home, King’s Row. Extremist omnics fell at the feet of her team, reduced to scraps. She felt bad for some of them, but steeled herself. The hostages were what mattered. She laughed as she fought, still new and finding levity in the middle of a battlefield, despite Torbjorn’s complaining and Dr. Zeigler’s warnings. Though this mission was the hardest she had ever faced, the last OR-14 fell at her feet and she sped into the upper levels of the power plant to rescue the innocent humans and omnics being kept there. They ushered them out, into extraction planes, before they waited for their own, leaving Lena agitated and anxious. She couldn't stay still with the team not knowing if her family had made it out before Null Sector staged their attack. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore, and she stepped out of the testing group. “I'll be back, promise. I just want to check the east side of the city for any remaining stragglers. I'll be back in a flash.” Not waiting for the order to stay behind, she left, zipping through the streets to her neighborhood. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way through rubble to find her home. 

Or what used to be her home.

She found herself staring at a pile of rocks, familiar shutters destroyed and ripped fabric strewn across some. No. No, no. Her mother had to have gotten out. She had to. Lena turned on her comms. “Is the last name Oxton on the list of casualties for King’s Row, commander?” She asked, her voice a pained whisper. There was a pause. “Tracer, what are you doing separate from the team? You could be in danger--”

“With all due respect, check the damn list, commander. Please.”

“We’re going to have to have a talk after this mission, Cadet Oxton.” Commander Morrison grumbled, but she could hear him typing something out. “There’s none with the last name Oxton in the database. Your mother’s accounted for.” Lena sighed in relief and adjusted her cap with a grin. “Thanks, love.” The commander huffed. “Get back to the rendezvous point, Tracer.”

“Gotcha! On my--” Lena was interrupted by a scream close by, and she was suddenly on high alert. “Sorry, commander. Sounds like there’s a damsel in distress in need of rescue. Tracer out.” She didn't even hear the commander’s response before she was around the corner, and she spotted a redhead running for her life, and a leftover Null Sector omnic (obviously not in the best condition) following her, gun blazing. Yup, she'd call that a distressing situation. She whipped her pistols back out and started firing, chasing after the two of them with a joyous yell. The rush of battle was gonna satisfy her adrenaline junkie side for weeks! The omnic turned its attention to the immediate threat and not the innocent cornered in an alley, thank god. Lena blinked back and forth as best she could until she ran completely out of charges, just trying to distract it until she could get to the civilian. Finally, it crumpled, and she darted towards the redhead, grin a mile wide. Time to test out the catchphrase. “Cheers, love. The cavalry’s here!” 

That earned a smile from the terrified girl, but even though the accelerator had hummed back into a proper charge, a ticking behind them drew her attention. Damn it. She threw her arms around the girl, quickly said “Hold on!” and blinked as far away from the hunk of metal as it exploded as she could. 

She let go of the girl, who seemed queasy but intact, and gave her personal space. “Just in time. Sorry, I know that's pretty disorienting at first.” Then the girl laughed, and it was beautiful and melodic, and Lena felt the tips of her ears go red. She held out a hand to help the civilian up. “Did you miss the extraction ships? What are you doing out here?” The girl shrugged and spoke, her voice lilting and playful. “I wanted to come back and grab something of mine. Thought I could make it, though, obviously, I couldn't. Thanks for saving me. I'm Emily.” Lena put a hand on the back of her neck nervously. “Nice name. Come on, we’ll get you out of here and to safety with my team. The true Overwatch experience.” Emily laughed. “I'm pretty lucky, then.” 

Lena started walking, heading through the familiar streets chatting with the redhead, who seemed to be returning her subtle flirting. She made it back to the rendezvous point and was promptly lectured by Dr. Ziegler before she turned to Emily to make sure she was all right. Then the Doc pulled her aside. “Lena, I know your mother is on the east side of the city. It wasn't worth risking your life.” Lena shrugged. “The lives of innocents are worth more than mine. Why wouldn't I go back there?” Angela opened her mouth to speak, but her voice did not come out. “Because it wouldn't matter anyway.” Hissed a smug voice dripping with contempt and a French accent. Her smile faded quickly as the caduceus staff morphed into a sniper rifle, and the not-doctor pulled it off her back before Lena could stop her, delivering a quick, fatal shot to Emily, no scope necessary. Lena rushed to her side and watched blood run into and dry in her amber hair, watched the laughter leave her bright eyes. She turned to face the sniper, her heart pounding in rage, but instead of a fight ensuing, Widowmaker pulled her into a rough kiss and then shattered her chronal accelerator with the butt of her rifle, sending Lena reeling backwards, gasping, stumbling and falling but her body never touching the ground as she fell and fell through blackness, flickering in and out of existence, and she just fell, and faded, and disappeared…

And then she woke up. 

Lena’s first instinct was to go for her accelerator. She knew for a fact that she was fine in her flat, that she didn’t have to wear it, but her nightmare-fueled mind said differently, and she quickly took the tech off the wall and clutched it to her chest, taking deep breaths. First order of business complete. Second: Emily. She strapped on her accelerator over her pajamas and shook her girlfriend awake gently, sighing in relief when she woke up. “Sorry, sorry, love. Another nightmare. Go back to sleep.” She slid back into bed beside her and pulled the covers back up, trying her best to steady her heart rate again. She didn’t lay down and attempt to fall asleep again-- she knew it wasn’t going to work. She never could go back to sleep after a nightmare. But it didn’t seem like Emily was going to be able to, either, and she sat up beside her after a little while. “You were saying my name in your sleep. I was only half-asleep when you woke me up.” She murmured, rubbing her eyes. “What happened? You need to open up to me.” Lena didn’t want this lecture, but this dream she could share. “It was the day we met,” She admitted. “My first mission, remember? The strike team and the omnic after you?” Emily nodded. “But it all went wrong. It didn’t make sense, and you were dead, and my accelerator was shattered…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Just a twist on the usual, I guess.” Emily pulled Lena into her arms and rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m here, Lena. Everything’s all right. I know you won’t be able to sleep again, but I wish you’d at least try to get some mental rest…” Bless her. She really did try her best to help her through her issues. 

“It’s not that simple…” Murmured Lena, and she just earned a sigh from Emily. “That is what you always say.” 

They were mostly silent for the rest of the night, which, thankfully, wasn’t a long time, before Emily had to get up for work, and Lena was left alone at the flat to chug energy drinks as a sleep replacement.

That lasted a whole of two minutes before she heard a yelp outside and the doorknob being fumbled with. The panicked yelp was Emily’s-- she knew it anywhere-- and Lena rushed to the door, opening it just as her girlfriend’s slender fingers slipped away from the cold metal, and she was greeted with a hostage situation. Widowmaker held a knife to Emily’s neck, seeming almost… frustrated? “Consider this your return casserole, neighbor.” Snarled the sniper, which almost made Lena laugh at how stupid it sounded coming from her. “Come with me, or your girlfriend drowns in her own blood. I believe the former would be preferable for you, non?” She made eye contact with her girlfriend, who seemed both terrified and determined. Poor girl knew Lena had to make sacrifices in the field, but she would not let her be one of them. “Let her go. I’ll come with you.” Widowmaker smiled cruelly. “You really value the life of your little distraction over your own? For all you know, you’re walking directly into a trap.” Lena growled. “You’d take me either way. Let her live.”

“Lena, you don’t have to--” The sniper’s knife pressed closer to Emily’s neck as a gesture for her to shut up, barely breaking the skin. But after a moment, she let her go, Emily stumbling out of her grasp and into Lena’s arms. She pressed a quick, passionate kiss to the redhead’s lips before shoving her back into the flat and closing the door after her. “What do you want?” The Brit spat, trying to look intimidating but not fully succeeding. (Intimidation was a little hard when you barely scraped 5’4” and the person you were talking to was at least 5’9”.) “I didn’t promise you any information in our deal. I promised you your plaything. Now bouge toi, cherie.” She heard a tap and an almost grinding sound behind her and realized the knife was being dragged across the back of her accelerator. Lena stiffened and started walking, scolding herself for letting her nemesis figure out she valued the accelerator over her own life. There wasn’t much damage she could do without a gun, but a crack in the wrong place could mess the whole thing up, and… Well, the sound of a pistol being taken off safety was something she could hear directly behind her, and she figured that was about to replace the knife. That carried much more of a threat. But… it did give her an idea.

She waited for the sound of the tip of the knife against her accelerator to stop before she blinked back, kicking Widowmaker’s feet out from under her and immediately entering a grapple for the pistol. Lena had a good cover on it, but the other had the trigger finger, a superhuman grip, and incredibly long nails that were currently drawing blood from Lena’s hand as they rolled and fought for it. She almost had it, her opponent’s grip weakened momentarily and she almost made it, but as her grip loosened, she delivered a solid punch to her gut, and she fell back on her ass with an ‘oof’. The pistol was pointed at her accelerator again.

“Fine.” The assassin growled through gritted teeth. “We’ll do this right here.” She switched the hand holding the gun and examined Lena’s blood under her nails and coating her fingertips from where she had dug them into her hand. She scoffed and returned her attention to the hostage. Lena attempted to blink out of the way, but the assassin managed to predict where she was going and caught her. A recall ended up the same way, and the both of them watched the soft blue light become softer as her abilities recharged. No escape now with time abilities, and the both of them knew it.

“Did you know someone named Amelie Lacroix?” 

Lena was not expecting that question. “Come again?” She blinked in confusion, and the assassin snarled, her grip tightening on the trigger. “Do you know Amelie Lacroix?”

“I…” Lena had to talk if she valued her own and her girlfriend’s life. “I knew her, yeah. Before you Talon brutes took her and made her kill herself after killing Gerard.” Widowmaker paused before speaking again. “What was she like?”

Why was she talking like this? “What’s going on? Why do--”

“What was she like, Lena?” The special emphasis on her name proved that her life was not the only one in the balance. 

“Uh, she was a great woman. Beautiful. Don’t know how anyone landed her. She always seemed like the free-spirit type, if not a little distant. She made the best M&M cookies.” Lena found herself a little lost in memory. “I was still really new when I met her, hadn’t even been out in the field yet. I honestly didn’t know much about her beyond the surface, though in that aspect I knew her pretty well.” Oo, she said too much.

The sniper raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Ah, uh…” Lena laughed nervously. “Jesse threw a party for someone’s birthday. Gerard was out on a mission, and we both got pretty hammered and did some… things we shouldn’t’ve.” She snapped out of a mindset on memory lane and realized what situation she was in. “Why do you even care? Why are you holding me at gunpoint to learn about a fling I had ages back? You all were the ones that killed her. She’s gone.” 

Widowmaker was silent.

“Answer me.” Lena demanded, despite the fact that she was in no place for demands. Actually… They both noticed her accelerator flicker back to full charge, and the sniper put the pistol away. “Go run home to your toy, Tracer. Until we meet again.” She grappled to the roof of a different building before Lena could say anything else, and though she wanted nothing more than to blink there, she knew she had to go back to Emily like she was told. So that was what she did, immediately relaxing when she stepped through the threshold of her house again, and letting Emily immediately pull her into a worried hug. It looked like she had been crying, poor thing. Lena just held her tight and buried her face in her girlfriend’s neck to just breathe and calm down. 

Lena didn’t sleep that night, and Emily didn’t argue. She watched over her sleeping girlfriend, pistols in her lap, accelerator on. After that much of a scare… She couldn’t afford to be caught off guard. So she just sat there and thought, reminiscing on Amelie’s dark, thick hair, her kind but firm eyes, and also on things that she definitely shouldn’t be reminiscing about. It hurt to think about what Talon must have done to her to break her. She may have been more reserved, but she was incredibly strong. 

She missed her.

At about three in the morning, her brain wandered farther into that rabbit hole of memories. She remembered the cookies, her laughter, how she tended to make Lena’s heart beat out of her chest. She remembered training, how she taught Lena how to hold a sniper rifle. It was a shame she had never officially joined Overwatch. She was incredibly talented, with a wicked 98% accuracy rating on her shots. She never missed. Every move seemed to be calculated, and she wished she joined the team. She would have been an unstoppable force for good, just like her husband. Just like Widowmaker is, but for not for Talon. Not for evil.

She had a fleeting thought, and immediately brushed it away. There was no reason for the commander to lie about Amelie and Gerard’s deaths. Was there? Puzzle pieces were slowly falling into place, and the picture it was creating was making dread pool in the pit of Lena’s stomach. It occurred to her that the words “World’s best sniper, a French woman with dark hair and amber eyes” applied to both Widowmaker and the late Amelie Lacroix.

Oh, God. Widowmaker didn’t shoot her because Amelie couldn’t bring herself to. Some part of her knew this, had always known it. The dreams were just that one night stand on replay, with edited main characters. Lena, now older, more mature, and Amelie… Amelie, now a monster.

Jack had some goddamn explaining to do.


End file.
